Several years ago, long before my Texas nieces and nephews cared about their hair or clothes, or whether they were cool or uncool, before the angst of adolescence settled over them, we used to dance in the rain.
As the first drop fell we would excitedly run outside to twirl and dance in the grass, arms lifted, mouths open, tongues catching raindrops, all the while giggling and splashing with total abandon. It was glorious to play in the cool, refreshing shower and always left us giddy and breathless. We would smile for hours afterward as we sat snuggled on the sofa, covered in beach towels, watching cartoons and sipping cocoa.
For those brief moments, I allowed myself to indulge in carefree spontaneity. I would spin, laugh and totally lose myself in sheer delight, blissfully unconcerned with what anyone else thought. It was a simple joy shared with kids who meant the world to me. Of all the things I've done with them over the past 17 years, dancing in the rain is one of my most cherished memories.
There's something healing and beautiful about a child's ability to enjoy the simplest things in life. Dancing with my nieces and nephews was the closest I've ever been to finding that ability in myself, to finding that innocent little girl of whom I have no memory all these years later.
Lately there has been something stirring inside my soul, something unidentified trying to burst through my practical, reserved demeanor. I find myself yearning to dance in the rain again, both physically and spiritually. I have no idea what it will look like, but I know I don't want to do it alone. So if you're a brave, carefree soul and have any ideas, let me know and we'll find ways to dance with abandon, even if it isn't raining!
